All Things Muggle
by movingstaircase
Summary: It wasn't as if this was the first time Hermione had brought home random and technological devices to test his patience towards her muggle heritage and his sanity along with it. One-shot.


"Granger, what the hell have you done to my wall?" Draco screamed to a seemingly empty house.

Silence followed his outburst and Draco sighed heavily, going to stand at the bottom of the stairs.

"Granger!" He shouted towards the landing. "I know you're up there!"

There was a small noise that sounded somewhat like a whimper as he heard a door open and footsteps heading his way. Hermione soon appeared, smiling sheepishly as she headed straight towards Draco and enveloped him in what was supposed to be a welcoming hug.

"How was your day? Mine was awful! You know, I-"

Draco wasn't having any of it. He pushed his fiancée away from him, ignoring her hurt expression, and stormed back into the living room, pointing at the wall and staring daggers at Hermione who had shuffled in beside him.

"What is _this_?" He scrunched his nose up and scowled at the contraption which was perched neatly above the fireplace. "What in Merlin's name have you brought into this house now?"

Sure enough, hanging on the wall above the mantelpiece, was a large, flat rectangle made out of, what Draco presumed, was glass. Black glass. In his opinion, it was a rather ominous object to have in the home. However, it wasn't as if this was the first time Hermione had brought home random and technological devices to test his patience towards her muggle heritage and his sanity along with it.

Hermione looked at him and smiled nervously.

"It's just a television, Draco." She shrugged.

"I'm sorry, _what_? A _telemission_?" Draco continued to stare at the television incredulously.

"A tele_vision_, Draco. You know, a TV? Telly?"

Draco turned to her with an exasperated expression etched upon his features and shook his head, scowling.

"I suppose this is another one of those muggle things you're so disgustingly attached to?"

"Yes, and I'm not _attached_ to it. I just thought it would be nice for us to at least own one." Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped herself onto the sofa, already well aware that she was in for a long night.

"It's not staying. I want it out first thing tomorrow." Draco demanded, sitting down next to her and folding his arms defiantly.

"You don't even know what it does!"

"I don't think I want to." He shuddered, glaring at the TV. "Go on then, what does it do? It's not another one of those microsaves, is it? Because you know how I feel about them. They are the most pointless things I've ever come across. Why would you need them to warm up food when you can just use magic?"

"Firstly, it's called a micro_wave_, Draco. For Merlin's sake, use your ears. And no, a TV has no relevance to food. It's designed purely for entertainment."

"And how, pray tell, is _that_ supposed to be entertaining? Because I couldn't be less entertained right now if the Weaslette barged in and performed one of her bat bogey hexes on me."

Hermione sighed and reached over to grab something from the coffee table which Draco had failed to notice during his fixation over the TV's arrival. As soon as the foreign object caught Draco's attention, he flinched away, shuffling to the far end of the sofa, as if the mere presence of such a thing was enough to scar him for life.

"Granger, really?" He cried. "Twice in one day? I thought you'd _stopped_ hating me! Can't you just hex me or something?"

"It's just the remote, you stupid ferret. It belongs to the TV."

"How can it belong to the other thing? Merlin, help me." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose as Hermione giggled and pressed the power button on the remote.

The TV roared to life and a panel show appeared on the screen. The voices of Dara Ó Briain and Russell Howard jumped into life as they passed banter back and forth. Hermione smiled. It was her favourite show; _Mock the Week_.

Draco, on the other hand, physically jumped from his seat with a _'shit, Granger'_, taking shelter by the living room door and gaping at the movement on the screen. Hermione watched him, finding his reaction completely hilarious and not even bothering to contain her laughter. Draco ripped his eyes away from the TV and glared at her menacingly. It didn't work. She had tears streaming down her face by the time she'd finally composed herself.

"Gosh, Draco! It's just the TV." A giggle slipped past her lips as he scowled at her. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared!" He growled, cautiously making his way back to his seat. "I want it out."

"Just give it a chance!"

"I don't like it, Granger! This is my house and I want that damnable thing out of here by tomorrow. Got it?"

"Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound? This is _our_ house and the TV is staying. I paid for it, so I'm keeping it. They're not cheap, you know?"

"Not my problem. I want it gone." Draco glowered.

"Oh, stop making faces at me." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't making a face!"

"Yes, you were! Or is that sneer just stuck on your features from your Hogwarts days?"

"I didn't hear you complaining about my facial expressions last night." She turned to face him as her cheeks heated up and he smirked at her suggestively.

"Shut up, ferret." Hermione huffed.

"It's still going."

"Not it's not." She replied in a sing-song voice.

"Granger, this thing is even more ridiculous than your infatuation with Scarhead and the Weasel."

"My... what?"

"Your infatuation."

"I do not have an infatuation with Harry and Ron. They're my friends, you bloody idiot!" She hit him playfully on the arm and he chuckled as he grabbed her wrist and kissed her knuckles one by one.

"So, you'll have it gone tomorrow, yeah?" He asked.

"No!" Hermione growled, ripping her hand away from his grasp and turning to watch the TV.

"Fine! But I'm stopping off to buy myself the Asteroid3000 after work." He grinned smugly at Hermione's appalled expression.

"That's not funny, Draco! You know how dangerous those things are! They've had nothing but bad press. What about that poor Shaun Higgins guy? He died, Draco! Died!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around wildly to emphasise her point. "Besides, you have a second edition Firebolt which is in perfect working order. I wouldn't mind, but you don't even play Quidditch professionally! Going to play in some ridiculously muddy field – where it is always raining, may I add – with Blaise and Theo once a week does not count as playing professionally. So, you can get that idea out of your head right now! Understood?"

Draco blinked a couple of times before sinking back into the sofa under her gaze.

"I'll take that as a yes." Hermione forced a smile and turned her attention back to the show on TV.

"Why are we together?" Draco asked.

"Because you love me. And I'm the only person stupid enough to love you back." Hermione answered, to which Draco laughed.

A comfortable silence fell over them as Draco watched his fiancée continue to watch the screen on the wall. Of course, he wouldn't dream of lowering himself into using some muggle contraption she'd brought home, though the voices drifting from it were rather distracting. Music began, signalling the end of _Mock the Week_, and Hermione turned to peck Draco on the cheek.

"I'm going to go and make tea." She said, getting up and leaving for the kitchen.

Ten minutes had passed and she hadn't returned. Draco was getting bored. Voices had began to leave the TV again and he had no idea how to shut them up. One of the men on the screen told a joke and Draco couldn't help but chuckle at the humour. Reluctantly, he flicked his gaze over to the television and began to watch.

Hermione was in the kitchen flipping through the pages of an old book she'd left on the table the day before. She really had meant to finish it today, but had completely forgotten about it.

Her concentration was cut short by a roaring laugh coming from the living room. Shrugging it off, she went back to her book, but was brought back to reality as the laughter started up again. Throwing the novel back down onto the table, she made her way to the living room to find Draco sprawled out on the sofa, thoroughly absorbed in the program on TV which she had left on in the hopes of it catching his attention; it had worked.

Smiling to herself in triumph, Hermione made her way over to the sofa and lifted Draco's legs off the cushions to sit down, placing them onto her lap. Draco pulled his eyes away from the screen to grin at her.

"So, Granger, you going to show me how to work this thing?" He asked, throwing the remote at her.

All Hermione could do was shake her head and laugh.


End file.
